


Home (Whenever I'm With You)

by Furious_Winter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-01-26 01:38:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1669931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furious_Winter/pseuds/Furious_Winter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For sandyd94 on Tumblr, axgexchange. Arya is coming home for the summer… Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the axg exchange on Tumblr. The prompt is: something based on the song “Home” by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. First let me say that I really like this song… it captures a certain sadness and reminiscence of the idyllic southern US life. Having grown up and still residing in southern Georgia, I’m setting the fic there (or, rather, here lol). And, for the record, I still hear their voices with British accents… haha, it’s just a peculiar anomaly of modern AUs, I suppose. This is for sandyd94 on Tumblr. :) I hope you like it!

Gendry was sweating, and not just because it was ninety degrees in the shade, so humid that it felt difficult to breathe and he had no air conditioning in his car. The city traffic always made him nervous. Perhaps Savannah wasn’t quite as bustling and chaotic as, say, Atlanta or Jacksonville, but it still felt overwhelmingly large and busy to him. He was more accustomed to driving down the highway and seeing pine tree orchards, woods equally deciduous and coniferous, wetlands and swamplands dotted here and there, great swathes of farmland growing tobacco, onions, cotton and dozens of other crops, and waving, as all southerners do, as every few minutes he’d pass a vehicle headed the opposite direction. 

Savannah was a different world entirely. He’d only been here once before, a couple of years ago when he agreed to go with Jon and a few others to River Street for the St. Patrick’s Day celebration. He’d never seen so many people in all his life, let alone so many inebriated ones, and he’d sworn to himself that he’d never go again. Thankfully, this wasn’t St. Patrick’s Day and when he’d agreed to come pick Arya up he’d imagined the city would be less… hectic; and it was, but the one-way streets and drivers that seemed to be in much more of a hurry than he was caused him to grip the steering wheel and hit his brake a little too often for their liking, given the number of honks he’d received thus far. 

After a bit of driving around aimlessly, he finally found the parking garage at which she’d told him to leave his car. From there, he descended to the ground floor and out onto the street. Glancing to his right and left for a street sign and squinting in the sunlight, he pulled out his ancient flip-phone and scrolled through her texts to the ones giving directions and, once determining which way to head, he set off on foot. Looking around him as he walked, he couldn’t deny the beauty of downtown Savannah. Everything from the myriad architecture to the sprawling oak trees dripping with Spanish moss created a sense that one was in a place like few others, one that almost felt like stepping into some alternate, time-compressed universe. 

He wiped a bit of perspiration from his brow and counted himself lucky for wearing a white t-shirt that didn’t betray quite how much he was sweating as a gray or blue one might have. It wasn’t just the heat or the culture shock that was making him feel ill-at-ease; as he made his way toward Arya’s apartment, he was both filled with excitement and terror over seeing her and he wondered if things would be the same as they were before. 

Arya’s time away from their quiet little town had felt like an eternity. Growing up together on her family’s farm was almost like a dream to him with hunting and fishing in the fall, mild winters spent praying for a snow flurry or two and then praying again for rain in the spring, and long summers full of swimming down at the river, late nights talking and laughing around a fire, and days spent doing everything possible to stay cool. As he fondly recalled these memories, he was also reminded of her very noticeable absence these past two years since moving to Savannah. He and Jon had both talked about how things just weren’t quite the same without her around and although things were a bit duller, they also took note of how they hadn’t been getting into quite as much trouble without her wild, impetuous nature and thirst for adventure. Now even Jon was gone as well, having left last summer to join the Marines and Gendry was the last of their group remaining.

He wondered if she’d be the same or if her time at the Savannah College of Art and Design, often called SCAD for short, had managed to quell her fiery spirit. He also wondered if she’d grown more beautiful than she was when he’d last seen her. This was something he could never bring himself to discuss with Jon, or anyone else for that matter. He’d never mustered up the courage to tell Arya that he fancied her, although he suspected that she knew, and these last two years more than ever he regretted his cowardice. _What if she’s met someone?_ he wondered. _She always went on about how there weren’t any interesting boys back home, but now she’s been around people from all over the country. On top of that, they’re even interested in the same things as her._

He reached the corner of a block and looked up at the road sign, realizing this was her street. With a deep breath, he turned down it and began looking for her apartment building. _It’s quaint,_ he thought to himself, _set back a bit from the road and nestled amongst a dozen others. God, what if there’s a fire? They’d all burn down._ His wondering cast to the side, he proceeded up to the doorway and, with a deep breath, pressed the doorbell. Inside, he could hear a girl’s voice shouting to another and a moment later the door flew open, revealing a thin blonde girl resembling the stereotypical southern belle. She blinked at him and he smiled at her. “Hi.”

She returned his smile with a blush as she stepped to the side to let him in, “Hi, you must be Gendry. I’m Weasel, Arya’s roommate.” Weasel let out a little laugh as he stepped inside of the small apartment. It was cluttered, but not unkempt. Various bits of art hung on the walls and there were little trinkets from various cultures on every surface, so much so that it felt like a history or art teacher lived here rather than two college students. Immediately before him was a hallway leading towards a living area, their kitchen was just to the right, and to the left was a staircase. He heard footsteps as someone began to bound down them and, with a hop, Arya landed at the bottom. She was smiling widely, her hair back in a ponytail and wearing a white tank top with her bra straps unabashedly showing, a pair of ragged jeans shorts and her feet were bare with her toenails painted a deep shade of pink. “Gendry!” she exclaimed as she threw herself at him, embracing him. He let out a laugh and returned her hug with equal vigor. “God, I’ve missed you!” 

He responded earnestly, “I’ve missed you too.” More than you know, he thought. 

She released him and stepped back, beaming. “This is Weasel,” she pointed, “my roommate.”

“Yeah,” Gendry nodded, “we’ve-”

“We’re both dance majors. And I’m so sorry about the apartment, it’s a mess!” She continued breathlessly, “It’s my turn to clean it and…” her voice trailed off as she broke into another grin. “It’s so good to see you, Gendry.”

He felt himself blushing, so he looked to the ground and absent-mindedly scratched at the back of his neck. “It’s good to see you.” he managed, desperately wanting to say something witty or clever but coming up with nothing.

“Well, I’m almost done packing.” She stepped back toward the stairs. “You hang out with Weasel while I finish up.” With that, she disappeared up the stairs, noisily stomping as she hurried to the top. 

Weasel watched her as well and, once Arya was safely out of earshot, turned to Gendry. “She’s been talking about you all morning.” She started for the living room and motioned for him to follow.

“About _me?”_ he asked. 

“Yes,” she sat down on a brown leather loveseat and he sat in an antiquated recliner opposite her, “about you, and home, Jon and all that.”

“Ahh.” He nodded thoughtfully.

“Mostly about you, though.” she grinned. Gendry wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. She leaned forward and asked, “Are all the boys back where you’re from as cute as you are?”

Gendry looked away, laughing nervously. “I’m cute? Okay, well,” he shifted uncomfortably, “haven’t heard that much before.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess Arya would know better than I would.”

Weasel looked serious. “I’ve asked her and she’s said that they’re all boring and stupid.” Gendry recalled quite a few times when Arya had called him “stupid,” and Weasel continued, “She said that you and Jon were the only ones worth anything.”

He felt his heart warm. “Jon’s a cool cat.” His words hung in the air as they reached a lull in the conversation. Gendry reverted to small talk. “So, um, how do you like SCAD? Is it everything it’s built up to be?”

“You mean, does it feel like I’m attending one of the most prestigious art schools in the nation?” She smirked. “No, not really. It doesn’t even feel like school. More like a job, I suppose. But we love it, Arya and I. We’re both very fortunate to be able to go there.”

He agreed, “Yeah, I can imagine.” 

A pounding on the stairs announced Arya’s return. “Alright, I’m ready!”

Gendry helped Arya carry her bags to his car, chatting along the way about Savannah, SCAD and how she loved it there. When they reached his car, he warned her as he put her bags in the trunk, “The AC’s out again, so… prepare to sweat.”

She grinned at him as they got in. “It’s alright. With the windows down, it’ll be fine once we get out of town and onto the highway.”

Leaving Savannah proved to be much easier than entering it. Arya directed him on the quickest route out and before long they were on the interstate. On the way to Savannah he’d worried that the two-hour-long drive home might be filled with awkward silence, but he found himself deeply interested in her tales as she seemed to enjoy his. Thankfully, there was plenty to catch up on. Eventually, the conversation turned to a frighteningly interesting topic. 

“So,” she asked, “have you been seeing anyone?”

“No.” he answered honestly. “Not that there haven’t been offers, you know,” he gave her a sly grin, “but Robb keeps me pretty busy with the farm, so it’s not like I’ve had much time to worry about things like that.” To be honest, he frequently worried over it. He worried that he might never have the chance to tell Arya how he felt about her before it was too late. 

“How is the farm, anyway?”

“It’s good, very good.” He nodded. “We’ve been having some trouble with one of the tractors, needs a new engine, but so far I’ve been able to patch it up and keep it running. It needs to last through the fall, at least.”

He could hear the smile in her voice. “You’ve always had a knack for that mechanical shit.” 

“And what about you?” He looked over at her. “Seeing anyone?”

“Well,” he braced himself as she started, “there was this one guy that I was sort of talking to for a while, but…” She sounded uncomfortable. “I don’t know, it just didn’t really pan out.”

“Sorry to hear that.” he lied. 

Arya nearly mumbled her response, “I think I was only interested in him because he reminded me of someone else, anyway.” 

He glanced over to her and saw she was staring out the window. Not knowing what to say, he asked, “What was his name?”

“Edric.” she answered. “Edric Storm.”

“Hmm.” He wondered who this fellow might have reminded her of. 

“But anyway,” she sighed, “I’m just glad to finally be coming back for a while.”

He tried to mask the anxiety he felt. “How long do you plan on staying?”

Arya put her feet up on the dash and leaned back, putting her hand out the window and coasting it on the wind. “Oh, I don’t know. A couple of weeks, at least. Weasel’s taking care of the apartment while I’m gone, so it doesn’t really matter.” She looked over at him, grinning, and poked him in the ribs. “You could be stuck with me for the whole summer.”

He laughed. “Is that a threat?”

“Only if you don’t remember how to keep me entertained.” She groaned, “God knows there’s nothing do.”

Gendry couldn’t help but disagree with her, but he kept his opinions to himself. “Yeah, well, still.” He opined, “There’s no place like home.”

Arya shifted in her seat. “Well, I mean, sure it’s where I grew up and where my house is, but…” She bit her lip. “I feel like I’m home right now.”

Gendry furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“I feel like ‘home’ is whenever I’m with you.” He looked over to her, his heart skipping lightly at the compliment. “And Jon.” she added, smiling sheepishly.

Taking a deep breath to quell the butterflies in his stomach, Gendry replied, “These past two years,” he shook his head, “it hasn’t been the same without you.” He heard her sniff and glanced over to her. If she was crying, she was hiding it well. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t come back.” She cleared her throat. “Ever since Dad died, you know, it’s just been easier to stay away.”

Gendry had suspected as much. Mr. Ned had passed during Arya’s first semester away at school almost a year and a half ago. It had been sudden and unexpected, and it was the last time he’d seen her. He remembered how she hadn’t shed a tear the entire time from when she came home, to the wake, the funeral, the burial; even when the rest of the Stark family was broken and in tears Arya remained stoic. However, Gendry had seen the hurt, the pain and the devastation in her eyes. She never smiled once and barely spoke to anyone, himself included, except when absolutely necessary. By the expression on her face, she’d looked simply empty.

Instinctively, he reached a hand over and rested it on her leg, whispering, “It’s alright.” He heard her whimper and she put her hand atop his, grasping it while she began to softly cry.

“I’m sorry.” She smiled and tried to laugh through her tears, turning to look away from him. “Crying is so stupid.”

Gendry didn’t know what to say to her. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it must have been like, what it still must be like, to lose a parent. He never would. The memories of his mother grew fainter as he aged and he’d begun to wonder if they were even real at all or if he’d simply invented them. She’d died when he was only three and he’d never known his father. In a way, he was fortunate for that. _You can’t lose something that you never had. Surely,_ he reasoned, _there’s something that I can say to make her feel better._ After a moment, he came to conclusion that there was truly nothing to say at all. Perhaps simply being there for her was enough. 

Arya wiped at her eyes and kept staring out the window. “Do you think we could go by his grave before we go to the house?”

“Sure.” Gendry nodded. “If that’s what you want.” For the rest of the ride, Gendry did his best to keep her laughing and smiling. He brought up their shenanigans on church trips, cow tipping, scaring small children at their community’s haunted house on Halloween year after year and the time Jon “burned the school down,” as they often jested, during home economics. However, Arya became quiet once they pulled into the cemetery and the grumbling of the gravel beneath the tires was all that could be heard. 

The cemetery was set back from the highway, the gravel path leading between two groves of trees and foliage before opening up into a large clearing. At the center, a marble statue of the Mother stood on a raised platform. The names of many familiar houses could be found on the tombstones; Mormont, Cassel, Reed, Bolton, Dustin and Flint all among them. The Stark plots were at the very back. As he brought the vehicle to a stop, he turned to her. “Would you like for me to stay here?” he asked. 

She bit her lip and thought for a moment. “No.” she answered simply. Arya got out of the car and he slowly followed suit, trailing not far behind her as she walked up to the grave. She stopped a few feet short of it and he did the same, a pace behind her, and she simply stood, calm as still water. A moment later she turned to him, bleary-eyed and breaking his heart, and reached out her hand. He took it and she pulled him close, hugging him and crying into his chest. He put one arm around her waist and with the other he gently caressed the back of her head, leaning his head down to rest his cheek around her. She clung to him tighter and he closed his eyes, wishing he could share her pain and her grief that he might somehow alleviate her suffering. 

A moment later, her emotions seemed to settle and she asked if she could have a moment alone. Gendry sat in his car, watching her as she knelt by her father’s grave, for how long he couldn’t have said. After returning to his car herself, Gendry drove back to the highway and her mood appeared to improve. They talked again about their fond memories from years past. Eventually, she asked him if he’d like to go camping, just like old times. 

“Sure.” He smiled.


	2. Summer Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya convinces Gendry to go camping and he struggles to tell her how he feels about her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's quite overdue, but here's the follow up! I hope you like it!

Nearly a week since Arya had come home, Gendry still hadn’t found the courage to tell her how he felt about her. With no shortage of opportunities, he’d berate himself once the moment had passed while assuring himself that, next time, he’d be ready. Still, thoughts of doubt plagued him. _What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if she only laughs at me and calls me stupid? Or worse, what if things are never the same again?_

This evening she’d insisted that they go camping and, having been given the weekend off by Robb, he was in no position to protest. The trek out to their old camping spot proved to be more difficult than he remembered. Their favored location lay nearly two miles away from the Stark house, first past the fields and then into a pine tree orchard; beyond that, a marshland where one had to watch their steps in order to keep their shoes dry and finally through a stretch of woods before reaching the pond where he, Arya, Jon, Theon, Robb and many others had shared countless nights drinking and laughing by a fire into the wee hours of the morning. 

This afternoon Arya led the way, machete in hand. Robb had opted not to come, grumbling about having to wake up early for some reason or another, and thus Gendry and Arya were tasked with carrying all the supplies: the tent, the tarp, a shovel, some food and beer, blankets and such. Most of this fell on Gendry to tote as Arya, with a ridiculously large pack on her back, needed both hands free to clear the way of overgrowth. Their progress was slow and Gendry felt himself breathing a sigh of relief as the pond finally came into view. Their spot wasn’t on Stark property, but the Karstarks to whom the land belonged were distant relatives of theirs. Mr. Rickard either didn’t know that they camped there or didn’t care. Regardless, the place was filled with memories. 

With a relieved groan, Gendry dropped the cooler he was carrying and unstrapped the tarp from his shoulder before letting his oversized backpack fall to the ground with a thump. He yawned and Arya glared at him, grinning. “No, no! Don’t start with that. We’ve still got three hours of daylight!”

Gendry laughed and apologized, “Beggin’ your pardons, m’lady.”

She picked up a pinecone and threw it at him. “Don’t start with that, either!” Bossing him around was something she’d always been good at and, if he was being honest, something that he also didn’t mind. Arya wasted no time, “You go ahead and dig the fire pit and I’ll level out a spot for the tent.”

Wiping a bit of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, he teasingly complained, “Always making me do all the hard work. First carrying all the heavy stuff and now digging the pit.” He looked to her while she hacked at some tall grass, pressing it into the ground with her foot. “Would you like for me to gather all the firewood as well?”

Arya blinked at him. “Of course.”

“And then should I set up the tent?”

She nodded. “Promptly.”

“And the fire?” he grinned. 

Visibly, she struggled to keep from smiling back at him. “That shouldn’t take you very long.”

Gendry drove the shovel into the ground and leaned on it, resting a foot on the back of the spade. “Anything else for m’lady? Should I hunt down enough birds to make you a featherbed?”

He saw her break into a grin just as she turned away and resumed her heartless assault on the innocent foliage. “And a pillow, while you’re at it.”

After Gendry finished digging the pit, he helped Arya with laying out the tarp and raising the tent. A bed of grass was nothing like a mattress, but they’d learned years ago that it beat sleeping on the tough Georgia clay and sand nearer to the pond. As twilight threatened to make an appearance, they both ventured into the woods in search of firewood, Gendry teasing Arya about snakes and spiders the whole while. 

“I’m not afraid of spiders.” She insisted. 

He smiled. “Okay.” 

Arya turned to him. “Truly,” she maintained, hearing the lazily masked disbelief in his voice, “I’m not. I just don’t like the _webs.”_

Gendry stooped to hoist onto his shoulder a thick limb that had fallen. “What’s so awful about a web if you’re not afraid of what’s in it?”

She huffed. “They’re just creepy, okay? And they tickle. You’re walking along and then all of a sudden you’ve got this invisible stringy shit all over you and…” she shuddered. “Spider webs just aren’t cool.”

“They aren’t invisible, either.” He tested her. 

“Well, they’re _mostly_ invisible.” She kicked over a stick and then knelt to pick it up. “And they might as well be when it starts getting dark.”

“Like now?”

She nodded almost imperceptibly. “Yes.”

Rising up from the ground, she began to walk on, her eyes on the forest floor. He followed alongside and slightly behind her. He opined, “I can still see them just fine.”

Gendry found the irritation in her voice to be delightful. “Good for you.”

“Like that one.” 

Arya immediately stopped. _“Where?”_ He laughed and she shot him a glare. “That’s not funny, Gendry!” She turned away and continued walking, her tone determined. “Do you remember when Jon got bitten by a brown recluse? It could’ve killed him, you know.”

“Brown recluses don’t build webs.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Yes, they do.”

“Well, I’ve never seen one in a web.” He shrugged. 

The ground crunched beneath them as they walked on. “They like damp, dark places. We’ve had them in the garage, the tool shed, the barn, pretty much anywhere with small spaces.”

“Alright. Still, it’s not the kind of web you could walk through.”

Arya sighed and continued, “The point being that spiders are no joke. Jon could’ve lost his hand.”

“It wouldn’t have gotten that bad if he’d just listened to your mother and gone to the doctor right away.” It was his best attempt at consoling her. 

She ignored him. “His skin started rotting. It started _rotting,_ Gendry. And now he’s got that awful scar.” While she kept on, Gendry quietly sank down and picked a weed. “Then there was that time the attic got infested with black widows. Thank goodness no one was bitten, but Mother didn’t let us sleep upstairs for nearly a month after Sansa found one in her bed.” Her voice became more worried as she knelt down to pick up another stick. “I mean, what if she’d waited just one more day to change her sheets?” As she rose to stand, Gendry reached the weed out towards her neck. “All it would’ve taken was one bite, and-”

Arya dropped the wood she was carrying and shrieked, turning round and slapping wildly at the back of her neck, her feet stamping and her hair flying with each shake of her head. Once she realized what had happened, Gendry was simply staring at her, his mouth covered with one hand, trying to hide his grin and quell his laughter. He asked, “I’m sorry, did you think that was a spider?”

“You’re so _stupid!”_ she began to hit him in his chest and he stepped backwards in an attempt to evade her onslaught. “It’s not fucking funny!” He only laughed harder and it made her madder. Regrettably and without eyes in the back of his head, he tripped over a root and fell flat on his back, the firewood falling around him, still chuckling. Arya gazed down at him without sympathy. “You deserved that.” 

He sat up and began picking up the firewood. “I’ve missed you.” He’d meant to say ‘I love you,’ but somewhere between his brain and his mouth his nerves fucked it up. 

Arya took a moment before responding. “I’ve missed you too.”

The sun nearly set, they finished gathering wood and returned to camp. Arya started the fire while Gendry straightened out a couple of wire hangers so they could cook hotdogs, sausages and marshmallows. Around them the frogs and cicadas began to sing, the stars began peeking out at them and the graceful half moon crowned the blackening canvas. As they sat by the fire and cooked their dinner, they cracked open their first beers and began recalling past campouts. The conversation started out innocently enough, but before long Arya brought up a particular campout that he preferred they forget about. 

A bit tipsy now, her gestures were more prolific. “Please, she spent the entire night trying to get in your pants.”

He took a swig of beer and closed his eyes, shaking his head. “No, she didn’t. If you remember, she gave a great deal of attention to Jon.”

Arya laughed skeptically. “You’re _still_ jealous. There she is sitting in your lap, droning on about fire and mystical bullshit, and you get all pissy because she keeps talking to Jon about how she thinks he’s got magical powers or something-”

“You never liked any of my girlfriends.” He sighed. “And I wasn’t jealous.”

“All you could think about was how you finally brought a girl out like Jon, Theon and Robb had but she’s not even into you.” Her satisfied smile pissed him off in a way he couldn’t quite describe.

Gendry raised his defenses. _“Ygritte invited her,_ Arya! She was giving me hell because I hadn’t dated anyone in a while and then she brought up Mel and how everyone knew she liked me and-” 

“Shit! That’s right!” She grew as serious as inebriation allowed and then broke into another smile. “She tried to hook the two of you up and once we got out here-”

“Mel read her palm and told her she was going to die.”

Arya rocked back and forth while she laughed, squinting. “She… she tells her ‘you’re going to die’ and Ygritte gets all freaked out and it’s like, seriously?” She looked over to Gendry. “I mean, everyone dies. It’s not like it’s fucking news or anything.” 

Recalling Ygritte’s reaction, he smiled and looked into the fire when an odd buzzing sound reached his ears. He noticed Arya reach for her pocket and knew immediately what she was doing once her face became illuminated with synthetic light. “You brought your phone with you?” he asked, puzzled.

“Yeah.” Arya answered shortly, tapping at her screen. 

He furrowed his brow. “Didn’t you say part of the fun of going camping is getting away from technology?”

Finished with what she was doing, she put the phone away. “Yes, but I mean, what if something happened, you know? I couldn’t very well drag you back home if you got bitten by a snake or something.”

He grinned at her and shook his head, looking back at the fire as her phone buzzed again. Just like before, she tapped quickly at the screen and then set it beside her. Gendry finished his beer, stood and grabbed another from the cooler. Just as he was sitting back down her phone buzzed once more. 

“Who are you texting?” he asked, both curious and a little annoyed. 

“Edric.”

“Oh. Edric umm…” He remembered her mentioning that she’d sort of been talking to an Edric. 

“Storm.” she answered. 

He nodded and spoke softly. “Cool, cool.” Watching her as she finished texting, he wondered what they were talking about. “So, um, so the two of you still talk?”

Arya took a swig of beer and glanced over at him. “What do you mean?”

Clearing his throat and shifting uncomfortably, “It’s just that, you know, on the ride here you made it sound like you’d been talking to him and then,” he made a circular motion with his hands, “stopped.”

“Oh, right.” She nodded with understanding and turned her attention back to the fire. “I mean, we’ve got a lot of mutual friends so we still see each other often.” Her phone buzzed yet again. “And we text from time to time.”

Scrutinizing her as she stared at the screen, he wondered how much he should press on about it. He wanted desperately to know what they were discussing, but didn’t want to give himself away by being too inquisitive either. Alcohol got the best of him. “What are you talking about?” he sort of blurted. 

After a few more strokes, she set down her phone and picked up her beer. “He wants me to come back early.”

His heart threatened to drop. “Why?” he asked. “You’re only here for two weeks as it is.”

A big smile drew upon her and he noticed the disbelief in her voice. “Do you miss me that much, Gendry?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, serious as a fangirl reading a deep, soul-wrenching fic about her OTP.

She almost seemed to blush and then sighed. “There’s a concert this Friday and I told him I’d go before I realized when it was.”

“So you’d need to leave Friday instead of Sunday?” Gendry scratched at his cheek.

“Mmhmm.” She took a drink from her beer. 

He felt relieved. “Well, I can’t take you Friday. I’ve got too much work and-”

Her phone buzzed. “Yeah, I told him that. He says he’ll come and get me.”

_Not if he doesn’t live to take you back,_ Gendry mused. His mind began to run. “I could probably convince Robb to let me have another day if you need to leave early. He might even let me have Saturday so I could go to the show with you, stay the night and then-”

She giggled, texting. “You wouldn’t enjoy yourself.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You don’t like Paramore.”

His jaw dropped. “Arya, you _hate_ Paramore.”

She looked to him briefly and shook her head. “Not everything they do. I quite like that song they did for the Twilight movie.”

“You hate _Twilight,_ Arya.” About three things he was absolutely positive. First, Arya had to be joking. Second, he knew there was a part of her- and he didn’t know how dominant that part might be- that hated Twilight. And third, Arya was unconditionally and irrevocably being stupid.

She got defensive. “So? That Radiohead song plays at the end and you still like them!”

“Of course I do!” To him, it all seemed quite obvious. “It plays at the best part of the movie. The _end_ of it. You’re like, ‘Thank God, this train wreck of a plot is finished making as much sense as Tyrion Lannister explaining bukkake to a room full of Evangelical Christians.’”

She waved him off as she set her phone on her leg, smiling. “Whatever, Gendry. Like I said, you wouldn’t enjoy yourself.”

He struggled to follow her logic. _I’d enjoy being with you._ Her phone buzzed and she immediately picked it up. Frowning, he gazed into the fire and tried not to sound pathetic. “You just don’t want me there.”

With an exasperated sigh, she leaned forward and hung her head, speaking to the ground. “That’s not it at all, Gendry. It would just be weird. Edric doesn’t like that I’m out camping with some guy I’ve known for years, especially since I’ve told him so much about you. That’s why he-” Her phone buzzed and she rolled her eyes. “Oh, _God!_ For Christ’s sake…” She silenced her phone and put it back down. “That’s why he keeps texting me. He’s jealous of you, okay?”

Any number of conclusions could’ve been drawn from what she’d just told him and, feeling a bit flattered, he stood up and got himself another beer. “Would you like one?” She nodded and he tossed one to her. As he sat back down, he inquired further. “Why would he be jealous of me?”

The question perturbed her. “I just told you why.”

“And? None of those seem like great reasons to be jealous.” Truth be told, Gendry probably would’ve been having a similar reaction if put into a situation not unlike Edric’s. 

Opening her new beer, she bit her lip, thinking. Her phone buzzed and she groaned, silencing it again. “Shut _up,_ Edric!”

“Why would he be jealous, Arya?”

She moaned and rubbed at her face with her free hand. “Gendry, can we please just talk about something else?”

Taking a deep breath, he gathered up his courage. “Well, I think I know why.”

Looking almost scared, Arya asked, “Why?”

It was now or never. “He thinks that I like you.” She blinked at him. He’d meant to say ‘He knows that I like you.’ _Well,_ he reasoned, _almost now or never._

With a relieved laugh, she took a large drink. “No, that’s not it.” Her ringtone sounded this time and she cursed loudly before answering it. _“What?”_ she snapped and Gendry could hear a voice speaking loudly on the other end. “I stopped answering your texts because I’m _trying_ to enjoy the great outdoors but it’s impossible to do that if I’m looking down at my phone every five minutes.” He could hear the voice talking again and Arya stood, turning away from him and walking off a few paces. 

Gendry listened intently. “I told you, I haven’t made up my mind yet. Well, I’m certainly not going to decide tonight. I’ll let you know in a day or two. Because I’m trying to enjoy myself!” After a moment, she spoke more quietly and he strained to listen. “That’s rich, coming from you. Nothing’s happened and even it did, it wouldn’t be any of your business unless I made it your business. Well, I’m not your girlfriend and I don’t have to tell you anything if I don’t want to.” Crossing her arms, she tilted her head up to the sky, her tone softening. “I said I’m sorry already. Look, I know I promised but I just haven’t made up my mind. I’ll let you know tomorrow, okay?” She turned and took a step back toward the fire. “Alright. Talk to you later. Bye.”

As she returned to her spot, Gendry contemplated what to say next. In the distance, an owl hooted and something in the pond made a small splash. He stared at his beer and couldn’t find any words to say to her. She and Edric’s relationship, while maybe not official, was obviously a bit more serious than she’d been letting on. If nothing else, her presence here was only complicating what might be a good thing for her. He wanted Arya to be happy and perhaps it was best if she went back early- even though he didn’t want her to. 

“I’m sorry, Gendry.” She finally broke the silence.

He forced a smile. “What for?”

“It’s just not the same, is it?” He studied her and she read the question on his mind. “You know, on the ride here I said that this is home and, especially, when I’m with you it’s like I’m home.” She sniffed. Gendry was unsure if she was crying. “But it’s just not the same anymore. I thought that being out here camping we like used to, it would be just like old times- and in a way it is- but… I’m just different.” She stared at him sadly. “You’re different. Jon’s gone, Robb and Sansa are always busy, everything’s still the same but it’s also changed so much since I left.”

Gendry frowned. “How am I different?”

“I suppose you’re not.” She raised her eyebrows. “I… I just thought that maybe…” She took a drink and whispered, “I don’t know.”

The ache in his chest overwhelming him, he took a deep breath. “Well, if you don’t want to stay, that’s fine.”

“I want to, Gendry, I just…” she frowned. “I guess I just don’t have a good reason to.”

The words hurt him. Most of his life he’d felt that he just wasn’t quite good enough, but Arya never made him feel that way. She’d always accepted him and appreciated him, even loved him in a way that no one else had. That, at the least, had now seemingly changed. “Right.” He sat for a moment, hearing nothing but the crackling of the fire and sounds of the forest, and then drained his beer. He stood up, stretching, and looked over to Arya. “I think I’m gonna go ahead and turn in.

She looked so sad that it broke his heart. “Okay.” She nodded. Perhaps it hurt her as much as it hurt him. Maybe she wanted to care, maybe a part of her wanted to settle for second best, someone like him, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it anymore. After he realized he was staring, she finally shied away from his gaze and said, “Goodnight.”

Giving her a drunken half-wave that she didn’t even see, he managed, “Night.” He plodded determinedly, carefully although slightly tipsily, and ungracefully toward the tent. After struggling a bit with the zipper, he stepped inside and left it open, flopping down onto his back atop the pile of blankets they’d laid down. It was too warm and humid for them to be of any use, and so he adjusted his pillow and covered his eyes with his arm trying to block out the light from the fire, relax himself and calm his mind. 

Once a few minutes had passed, he heard Arya shoveling dirt onto the fire and then her footsteps as she climbed into the tent and zipped it closed. She lay down next to him and after she’d settled, she scooted over and snuggled up beside him just like she would years ago. He moved his arm and put it around her so she could rest her head on his shoulder and she pulled closer, moving her knee onto his leg and resting a hand on his chest. As they lay there, he could hear her breathing, smell her, and he wished that she would never leave. He didn’t understand why it couldn’t always be like this, so easy and so natural if not at all sexual. Gendry loved Arya dearly and being so close to her meant the world to him. 

He moved his neck so that his cheek rested against her head and rubbed his hand lightly up her side. He hadn’t meant to cause her to stir but she inhaled sharply and deeply, then exhaled slowly as she softly scratched at his chest with her thumb. Feeling himself shudder at the sensation, he reached his hand up to her head and stroked her hair not knowing what he was doing as he pressed a series of soft kisses to her scalp, terrified and emboldened by the was she was pressing against him, into him, feeling her warmth and melting at the way she was breathing. _Is this okay? Does she like this?_ Arya gave a quiet moan. _She likes this._

Arya turned her face to his and their lips met in one fluid motion. The kiss was slow and soft, careful, calculated and yet effortless. She moved her hand from his chest to the back of his head and pulled him to her, opening her mouth and kissing him more deeply. He’d often wondered what it might be like to kiss her, and it felt surreal as if he was dreaming. When their lips parted she whispered breathlessly, “Gendry.” Her eyes searched his, questioning. He answered her with another kiss, emboldened now as she moved on top of him and he caressed her sides and back. 

When their lips again parted, he asked, “Is this a good enough reason for you to stay?”

Arya smiled at him sheepishly. “For at least the rest of the summer.”

He leaned up and kissed her again, praying the summer might never end.


End file.
